


Fucking and Fighting

by WildwoodDancing (Eshnoazot)



Series: Good Omens Smut [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Beelzebub Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Biting, Gabriel Has a Penis (Good Omens), Hair-pulling, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Nonbinary Beelzebub (Good Omens), Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Porn, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Tumblr Prompt, Vaginal Sex, for now anyway, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 05:03:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20384134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eshnoazot/pseuds/WildwoodDancing
Summary: Life isn’t fair, no matter if you’re Archangel fucking Gabriel or fucking Archangel Gabriel.The look on his face when he was caught complete unaware was gloriously delicious, and Beelzebub had smashed their lips against his just at that exact moment when Gabriel had wondered if Beelzebub had corned him to fight or fuck.Fucking and Fighting are intertwined instincts, and Gabriel was made to be a soldier.





	Fucking and Fighting

Beelzebub is panting hard and forcing down the immense urge to _writhe _on top of Gabriel. They are straddling him on their knees, and he is gasping and covered in claw marks and deep bites. They start at his shoulder, and trail over collarbones and biceps and pecs like demonic freckles. His lips are swollen, his eyes are glazed, and he looks like he is about to start sobbing from the overstimulation. He has been wrecked, torn apart and left to float aimlessly while Beelzebub affixes a look of boredom and busies themselves with inspecting the bite marks on Gabriel’s shoulder.

“_Listen up you selfish fuck_,” Beelzebub announced, while trailing fingers over an unbitten section of his left pectoral in great consideration, _“You’ve had it good for a few weeks, but not today. You’re not cumming until I’ve had at least three orgasms, do you fucking understand?”_

Beelzebub is transfixed by the bite marks across his body; something deeply demonic and territorial causes a rush of _thrill_ through them when they trace the outlines of their own teeth on his skin. Most are just raised and red, but a few have broken the skin; the newest one is still trickling plasma from the wound. If they were human, a particularly deep bite would certainly _scar_ – but they are celestial in nature and can take and give more than most. Beelzebub will return to Hell and could have a request for a new corporation granted before they’d even filed the paperwork.

Gabriel wouldn’t, and Gabriel _couldn’t_.

A new thrill rushed through Beelzebub, and they grinned through the urge to bear down and ride him through their own lust. There is a very good chance that Gabriel will bear these marks the next time Beelzebub curls a strong hand across his bicep and smiles with unspoken promises. His eyes are clamped shut now, and Beelzebub knows exactly what he is feeling because Beelzebub can feel it too. He is buried deep inside of them, barely holding on as Beelzebub tenses muscles he can _keenly feel_, while remaining as still as they can on top, just to _torment_ him.

“_Bee_,” He wheezes from underneath Beelzebub’s hands. He is sticky and sweaty, and he smells terrible. Beelzebub had stolen him away halfway through his morning run, just at that point where he was exhausted and high on endorphins. The look on his face when he was caught complete unaware was gloriously delicious, and Beelzebub had smashed their lips against his just at that exact moment when Gabriel had wondered if Beelzebub had corned him to fight or _fuck_.

Fucking and Fighting are intertwined instincts, and Gabriel was made to be a soldier.

They have been building up to this for the past half an hour, but Gabriel has been teetering on an edge for a few minutes now. Beelzebub has stopped dead in their tracks and forced the weight on their hands on his hips to stop him from bucking up. Gabriel is a poor student, and Gabriel really doesn’t know a way around a sex organ if his life depended on it. What Gabriel is good at, is more or less taking orders, except he only follows them when he wants to. He’s an absolutely insufferable brat who has no goddamn respect for his demonic betters. Beelzebub is _more than happy_ to explain to him why respect should be _given_ to them, and why their respect for him should be _earned_. Gabriel’s eyes flicker open in a silent accusation: he is _outraged_, he is angry at being stopped on the final step of the staircase to an orgasm.

Life isn’t fair, no matter if you’re Archangel _fucking_ Gabriel or _fucking_ Archangel Gabriel.

“_No_,” Beelzebub coos back with a snarl, and takes a risk to trace one hand over Gabriel’s inner arm. He’s a touchy sort, he wants to _feel_ and _explore_ and _taste_ and _lick_, but his enthusiasm is his downfall and Beelzebub wants more than _five minutes_ of Gabriel trying to feel every inch of their skin before he comes in his pants. Beelzebub curls their hand around his bicep and squeezes then releases just to trail ragged nails across the red marks on his skin. Gabriel makes an unholy moan, and Beelzebub bites down on their lip _hard_.

They’ve talked about this, they agreed on this. Gabriel had accepted only because he hadn’t any idea how much work Beelzebub puts into their little clandestine meetings. Beelzebub never grows tired of using Gabriel like their own personal sex toy, but they need more from him. His hands have been tied above his head, affixed to the ancient iron of the bedhead with his own luxurious scarf while Beelzebub is free to meld him to their will. Beelzebub doesn’t believe in foreplay, while Gabriel would spend years growing roses just to lavish them upon Beelzebub’s body. It’s why when Gabriel is “in charge”, there are about three hours of cuddling while Beelzebub boots up their Gameboy.

For a Demon, Beelzebub is _into some depraved shit_, and the idea that they regularly _cuddle_ with an Angel might just have Hell’s form of a mental health counselor quit their job.

But _Beelzebub is in charge now_, and when Beelzebub is in charge, they never quite remove their shirt. The juxtaposition; Gabriel spread out underneath Beelzebub in nothing just his fucking _jacket_, while Beelzebub is – at least from the waist up – fully garbed. From Gabriel’s perspective, Beelzebub imagines their face framed by the red sash that marks them as a Prince, Hell-forged badges of honour decorating their lapels, charcoal wings like a raven announcing that they were the most powerful being in the room. They’ve even left their fishnet socks on for the occasion, although they had removed the platform boots on Gabriel’s insistence.

“_Please_,” Gabriel begs.

They both know this single immutable fact: Beelzebub is never in the mood for tender lovemaking, they just want to _fuck _and be _fucked_. The fact that they’ve stopped is something that should cause Gabriel a moment of pause. Instead, he moans and tries to desperately move for any form of friction.

“You’re not allowed to come,” Beelzebub _insists_, curling a hand dangerously into his hair, “Do you understand? Say it.”

“_Bee_,” Gabriel whines with a tremor in his voice, then gasps as Beelzebub pulls lightly on his locks, “_Please_.”

The quiver in Gabriel’s voice makes Beelzebub flush with heat, and they let their smirk curl dangerously at the edges until he is staring back with pupils blown wide. Slowly, they lean down towards his face with unblinking eyes and Gabriel lets loose an enormous _sob_ which is captured by Beelzebub’s lips. It is hot and domineering and filled with power and demands. Their height difference may be disadvantageous at times, but it has its moments; when Beelzebub moves forward, they roll their hips, and Gabriel hisses from the drag of his cock against their folds.

“_Say it_.”

Beelzebub leans forward just a little more until Gabriel’s cock is threatening to fall back down onto his own stomach. They _will leave him there_, he knows. They will leave him there to keen and desperately try to seek his own relief from hands that are bound.

They have before.

Gabriel nods and swallows while his shoulders are shaking. Beelzebub looks down the length of their body, right down to where they are connected at the hip, and then levels an obscene look right into his flushed face.

“_I’m not allowed_,” Gabriel responds breathlessly, as a bead of sweat cascades down the side of his face, “_I won’t_.”

Beelzebub lingers, just to watch his face struggle to contain everything he is feeling, then repositions their hands on his chest and begins to ride him. They rutted relentlessly, working through their hips and thighs until they ached all over. They kept their eyes locked on Gabriel’s face, rolling hips and gliding up and down his length to watch him crumble before their eyes. They rocked back and forth, trying to find that right position, and eventually found it with a sharp inhale and a soft moan. The heat is pooling in their lower stomach, and Beelzebub takes everything they want from his body. Gabriel isn’t exactly _still_, but he knows better than to move and interrupt Beelzebub when their face is so twisted in desperation and hungry for ecstasy. Gabriel seems to know exactly when Beelzebub has found exactly what they want, because he is moaning their name as the heat _explodes_ and Beelzebub spasms deep inside. Gabriel is choking and writhing underneath them, and they force their hands down to still him with a hiss on their lips.

When Beelzebub comes, it is wordless and soundless and their eyes are closed tight, but when their eyes open, the first sight they see is Gabriel staring up in _adoration_. It’s sickening, and Beelzebub bares their teeth in warning.

“_Please_,” Gabriel breathes, and it is a broken and desperate sound.

Beelzebub’s legs are starting to spasm with after-shudders, but they cannot possibly pass up the chance to lean forward once again, just to hook a finger under his chin and stare right into his eyes. Power is dripping from their body, and Gabriel’s eyes widen with the recognition of that. There is just a moment of _hope_, that Beelzebub will _permit_ him to bail on their little agreement and then-

“_No_,” Beelzebub replies in a dark and low tone, “_Don’t you fucking dare_.”

Beelzebub’s hand relaxed in his hair for only a second, before grabbing a new handful and pulling just enough to make a point. Gabriel’s eyes were gathering tears from the sheer ecstasy on his face, and Beelzebub experimentally leant down to suck hard at a nipple. The Archangel’s back arched, and he bucked up again, leaving Beelzebub to file that response away from another day. He is too close to the edge, they realise, and they still again.

Gabriel’s eyes flick open, and they are filled with need and _betrayal_.

“_Don’t you fucking dare_,” Beelzebub hisses again, and yanks hard on his hair, “_You fucking promised_.”

“_Bee please_,” He begs again, and it is the most _beautiful_ sound Beelzebub has ever heard, “_Please Bee_.”

Gabriel inhales so sharply, it sounds strangled. Beelzebub’s hand moved along his jawline, and he relaxes just slightly into the caress, closing his eyes in _relief_. He is beautiful like this, pinned down and begging, covered in sweat and sex and bound with his own celestial clothing. Beelzebub is enjoying themselves immensely, just to see those beautiful expressions of hunger and lust, need and want. It is most becoming, and they are things that do not belong on the face of Angels.

Their hand continues up, and Beelzebub has to rock forwards to be able to coil a hand into his hair. Gabriel gasps and shifts, struggling against the scarf and leaning forward as far as he could. If he continues to struggle, he is going to break his own scarf, and Beelzebub can’t tell which scenario they’d enjoy more. With their hand coiled in his hair, they yank _hard_, and suddenly Gabriel is babbling _praise_ and making obscene noises, and he _buckled_ underneath them. From underneath he fucked _up_, making a desperate noise as he _bucked_ and swore like a jackhammer.

Beelzebub is surprised for half a second, grabbing a handful of flesh over his ribcage to hold on tight until they can brace themselves on his shoulder between his desperate motions. The hand in his hair twists in _reproach_, but it seems to do absolutely nothing but _encourage_ him to fuck as hard as he possibly can. He is muscular, he is strong, and the force of it almost physically throws Beelzebub into his face until they can force down through their hips. Beelzebub is edging towards overstimulation but rakes their nails across his pecs with a hiss.

If Gabriel _thinks_ he can just take control like this, he has _another thing coming_ to him.

Beelzebub’s legs are starting to turn to jelly, but they meet him _halfway_, and he swears so obscenely it might have been blasphemy. He is hissing and moaning, straining against his scarf, as they return to riding him hard and fast with absolutely none of his influence. Beelzebub has the advantage here, and if he cannot fucking listen, _they will make him_. One hand is wrapped in his hair, and one is forming bruises on his shoulder that are going to be so deep, Gabriel might not be able to move it tomorrow.

Gabriel is coming apart, and his words are the nonsense of lovestruck humans, which is most unbecoming of him. He is straining and straining, like he is desperate to kiss and cuddle and caress and trace patterns into skin and press their foreheads together – and other irrelevant actions. It is a mistake, but Beelzebub leans forward to press a tiny kiss at the corner of his mouth. They intend it to be a _torture_ – something so close to what he wanted, but something denied. Gabriel’s breath catches though, and his eyes catch their own with love radiating from their depths.

Beelzebub knew it was coming a split second before it happened. They could hear fabric ripping apart and didn’t have time to process it before Gabriel’s hands were firmly clasped over Beelzebub’s hips. Gabriel’s fingers sunk into flesh and fat with the pressure, but it didn’t stop their thrusts. Gabriel suddenly increased the rhythm into a never-ending onslaught of _deeper, harder_. Beelzebub hissed, and yanked at his hair, raking the second hand over his chest and across his nipple to make him howl.

Gabriel’s eyes slammed shut and his orgasm hit him harder than _anything_ they’d ever seen before. Beelzebub hissed as Gabriel’s cock spasmed inside of them and came with an absolutely _indecent_ breathless moan which sparked into a feral howl. Gabriel was always vocal, always cumming with a scream or cry – it’s an excessive as his unnecessary height. Beelzebub glowers as they feel it; gooey wetness surging inside of themselves which makes them level foul curses at the feathered bastard. His grip on their hips didn’t relent in the slightest but his hands were trembling. Beelzebub slapped his chest, just over a nasty bite in frustration, and his hips jerk up in a series of renewed vigour. A pained gasp broke past his lips, and Beelzebub flicked a purpling nipple with their nail out of increased interest. That quickly faded when he relaxed slack into the bed in a haze of adoring words and praise for Beelzebub.

“_Are you fucking kidding me?”_ Beelzebub swore, at the same time that Gabriel was waxing poetic renditions of love for them, “_You fucking asshole_. Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean this gunk out of a corporation?”

Beelzebub is cursing up an absolute storm, while Gabriel is reciting love poetry in deepest reverence. Both of them are out of air, and Gabriel might never breathe again if Beelzebub can’t stop themselves from choking the living daylights out of him. They’d tried to cause him a little pain in vengeance, but the bastard had _liked it_. It was deeply frustrating.

Gabriel was panting as if he’d just ran a thousand miles, and his dopey grin was _abhorrent._ He is _seeing stars_ and floating on endless clouds. There are odd twitches and jerks that slowly become less frequent, and Beelzebub tries to wiggle away but his grip on their hips is immobilising. He looks caught in an endless dream; a wispy little smile that makes him seem as weak as a cherub. He basks in the afterglow while Beelzebub huffs in deep-seeded irritation. Instead, they wiggle on his nap because his face is contorting with the sense of over-stimulation and _fuck Gabriel_.

Beelzebub grumbled and crossed their arms across their chest when his afterglow is finally letting up. He’s usually a sleeper after this, but if he thinks he’s getting a fucking nap, he’s _delusional_.

There is a certain tier in this universe, and Demons will always be more demanding and more prepared to be the loudest voice in the voice – and so Demons always got what they _fucking wanted._

“_You’re an absolute fucking wanker_,” They repeat, and lean forward to loom imposingly over Gabriel’s face, “What a disappointment. What an absolute waste of celestial essence. _How the fuck_ are you an Archangel if you can’t listen to a single goddamn thing. _Who the fuck do you think you are?”_

He reaches up with his face without thinking and kisses them straight on the lips. It isn’t filthy, isn’t drenched with lust and need. It’s closed-lipped and quick and filled with layers of meaning. A _kiss lasagne _and Beelzebub can’t help but gasp in surprise and a little disgust. _Anti-Christ Almighty_, it’s a fucking declaration of love, a declaration of an apology. Gabriel withdraws and looks sheepish but then looks a little smug for half a second, before Beelzebub narrows their eyes so dangerously that they can _feel_ Gabriel shifting nervously underneath them. His hands are still on their hips, but light, and frozen in terror.

_Good._

“Um,” He says and offers a weak smile, “I’m sorry?”

It might have been an accident; an inexperienced angel caught up in the moment, but Beelzebub is sure as fuck that he is _not sorry_ in the _goddamned slightest_. Beelzebub relaxed their grip on his hair and returned their hands to his pecs. Gabriel’s eyes are still blown wide, but he is exhausted. His hands have started to rub absent-minded circles to reinforce his apology.

“_Weak_,” Beelzebub spits back, “_And a fucking liar – breaking a promise is an absolute sin, you know._”

Gabriel gapes back and suddenly looks very awake.

“You know, the female praying mantis _eats_ the male after copulation,” Beelzebub adds with a foul tone, “I could at least get _some_ enjoyment out of a little victimless sexual cannibalism.”

Gabriel jolts when Beelzebub rakes a considering look over his chest. He is covered with scratches and nail marks, bites and bruises and hickeys, and he only just seems to realise this. He flushes red, and it is very pretty against the grey of his jacket.

“You_ wouldn’t_,” He replies, but he is a little more alarmed than he should be because if he was a tad less gullible, he would know that if Beelzebub did want to eat him, they certainly wouldn’t be giving him any warning.

“The female black widow spider too,” Beelzebub adds, and rocks their hips sharply, “_Unless you want to keep your fucking promises you flying rat_.”

Gabriel’s hands tighten a little, and then he blinks and suddenly seems to notice the tatters of his own scarf around his own hands. He blinks at this a little incomprehensibly, and then sat up, the movement bouncing his chest into Beelzebub’s.

“I think,” He says slowly, eyeing the Demon very carefully, “I mean, _I will_ \- make this up to you.”

He is certainly,_ interested_ in making amends, and Beelzebub grinds down viciously to witness him _hiss_ once more. His hands are free now and have snaked under Beelzebub’s arms to clutch at the base of their wings. He looks considering for a moment, and _lifts_, looking suddenly _delighted _that he has the upper body strength to control a Demon. Beelzebub in return gives a look of utter contempt at him and sucks at a nipple in spite, and he _screams_.

“_You fucking better_,” Beelzebub snaps back and reaches up to curl an arm around his neck. Gabriel looks like he is falling and swooning, and then seems to realise that Beelzebub now has a hand ready to snap his neck, “The count is re-setting; you better _hurry the fuck up_ before I have to get back to work.”

Beelzebub curls their legs around his back, and Gabriel sighs deeply and contently. Beelzebub drags teeth over his chest and lets a tongue flatten over long red marks from their fingernails. Gabriel sighs again, and his hold on their wings grow gentler. Beelzebub scoffs at the sentimentality but allows him to bury his head in the crook of their neck.

“Oh, and Gabriel,” Beelzebub says, before tracing his ear with their tongue, “_Wings out_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, even my lesbian ass has a thing for Jon Hamm what of it.
> 
> I take prompts for more smut if you wanna request a pairing and/or prompt in the comments.


End file.
